


The Iffy SGA Piece (or Transitioning From Phase to Phase)

by micehell



Category: Stargate Atlantis
Genre: F/M, Humor, Innuendo, M/M, a glistening cock or two, bad movie references, lots of silliness
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2007-12-22
Updated: 2007-12-22
Packaged: 2017-11-12 04:10:56
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,121
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/486533
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/micehell/pseuds/micehell
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sometimes it's not behaving inappropriately that's the problem.  Sometimes it's trying not to behave that way that bites you in the ass.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Iffy SGA Piece (or Transitioning From Phase to Phase)

**Author's Note:**

> You could kind of think of this as a sequel to [Folly of Man](http://archiveofourown.org/works/486540), because there is a theme of sorts, but their somewhat nebulous plots aren't tied to each other or anything.

John listened to the sounds coming from the huts around them, from the woods beyond, and concentrated very hard on cleaning his weapon. Normally he wouldn't have any of his guns unloaded while on a mission, but he'd run out of things he could say to their new trading partners -- those that _weren't_ in the huts and the woods, at any rate -- that didn't sound like innuendo. He could have always talked to his team, but Teyla had that totally serene expression on her face that never boded well, Ronon had disappeared, and there was no way that John was going to have a conversation with Rodney while someone yelled, "Yes, yes, right there!" in the background.

So he concentrated very hard on his weapon, cleaning it and putting it back together with more care than he had since he'd first been trained to do it. And things would have been fine, his weapon would have been clean and ready to go, no problem, except that just as he was sliding the cartridge home -- and fuck, why did everything have to remind him of sex -- someone nearby shouted, "Would you stop teasing and just fuck me already!" Which was, uncannily, exactly what he'd said to Rodney just that morning, and the memory, coupled with nerves already stretched tight by… well, by circumstances, made his hands tighten involuntarily.

Luckily, the gun had been pointed at the ground at the time, but the sound of the shot brought several people out. Not many, John noted, and two of them were teammates of his, but John carefully didn't look at Rodney as he turned his most innocuous look on the village headman.

Dejab was naked, his dick glistening a little, erect and waving somewhat, like an extra friendly hand, and it took all John had to not stare at the dick, and to not imagine the sex the man had obviously just been having. A little more than John had actually, because he was no more successful this time than he'd been since the orgy, or rather, the Rite of First Trade had started. So his smile was a little strained as he told Dejab, "Sorry about that. I didn't mean to shoot off… that is, I didn't mean to fire a…" John trailed off, not sure if everything he was saying just sounded dirty because he was so horny, or if being horny was actually making him talk a little that way. Chicken and egg, he thought, and wound up finishing with, "It was an accident."

Frankly, at this point John was almost hoping -- a little, just a little -- that Dejab wouldn't be all that understanding, and send them on home. At least that way they could go back where there were no Rites of First Trade, no villages filled with the sounds of sex, but, thankfully, lots of empty rooms, which he and Rodney could fill with sounds of their own.

::::::::::

"But, fortunately, Dejab was very understanding. He just told me that it was perfectly understandable, and went back to the, um, Rite."

Rodney snorted, having heard what Dejab actually said -- "That's not the weapon you're supposed to be using right now, Colonel, but I guess we can only be grateful that the shot didn't hit anyone in the ass. Not when there are so much more enjoyable things to do with them." -- but he didn't add anything, probably hoping that John would return the favor later.

Carter looked at him a little suspiciously, and said, "Let me get this straight. During a ceremony involving the celebration of your first trade with these people, you were cleaning your gun?"

So John hadn't included all the details about what had happened in his report. What she didn't know wouldn't hurt him, after all. He nodded, and said, "Yes." The less you gave the brass to go on, the better off everyone was.

"Okaaaay. And then after you were cleaning you gun, you accidentally discharged it, even though you've had years of experience with handling weapons?"

John almost groaned at the _handling weapons_ , wondering if she knew what had really happened, and was deliberately rubbing it in. But all he replied was, "Yes."

If it had been Weir, he would have done a little song and dance, and even though Elizabeth would have been too smart to believe that was all that had happened, just as Carter surely was, she would have at least been amused by the story and let it go, figuring John would tell her what she needed to know. But until he was more familiar with which way Carter was liable to jump, John was keeping to the bare minimum of ammunition to give her. He didn't need any more accidental shots going off.

Carter gave him a look that told him that not only was he not fooling her, but she knew he knew it, but it got a little complicated after that, and John just shrugged.

She said, "Do these things happen to you often, Colonel?"

Which, sadly, they did, and though John would have liked to blame it on the Pegasus galaxy being a weird place, he'd been prone to oddness long before he'd ever left Earth, which she already knew since she had his service record. But he wasn't going to mention it if she wasn't, so he just said, "We've found that the people of the Pegasus galaxy often have attitudes that, well, that we weren't expecting. Maybe SG-1 had better luck, but, well, you know," and shrugged again.

Carter sighed, waving his explanation aside. "No, no, that kind of thing happened a lot in the Milky Way, too. Usually to General O'Neill, but…"

She trailed off, a speculative look in her eyes, and John, far too used to Rodney, could just see theories being formed about the correlation of the gene to awkward social circumstances, and he hurried to distract her before he found himself the subject of another embarrassing case study.

::::::::::

Rodney knew the hunger was just sexual sublimation, but it didn't stop him from overeating like the worst kind of afternoon school special. It was either eat or do something incredibly inappropriate, and after what had happened on PX3-9Y7, well… it was best never to push John too far, and Rodney didn't think he'd be able to handle a cold shoulder -- and certainly not the withholding of sex -- after this mission.

But he'd finished all of his Powerbars, his MREs, and Ronon's Powerbars -- and that was risking death right there, but thankfully Ronon was off doing something, leaving them unattended, which meant they were fair game.

He hadn't been sure he'd ever eaten that much at one time before, and he'd been hoping that that empty spot inside him would finally be appeased, but then someone in the trees to his left had made a noise like they'd just had the best orgasm of their life, discovered a new Unified Field Theory, and found a hitherto unknown stash of Cote D'Or chocolate right here in the Pegasus galaxy, all at the same time, and Rodney had been torn between wanting to come and wanting to break down and cry right then and there.

But there was a long table at the edge of the fires, over-laden with different foods -- and Rodney had already scoped out which ones might be citrus-laden death traps just waiting to happen -- apparently for a post-orgy celebration, and it wasn't like Rodney didn't deserve a little premature celebration considering what the peri-orgy party was doing to him.

He sampled cautiously at first, just in case there was some stealth citrus somewhere around, but then he found a cake that tasted almost exactly like his Nana's Oatmeal Scotchies, and he -- potentially -- got carried away.

Rodney only realized how much he'd lost it when he started to feel it come back up. He had a moment to think of _The Exorcist_ , but it turned out his stomach was opting for a reenactment of _Monty Python's Meaning of Life_ instead.

He'd managed to avoid detection during his gluttony, but the aftereffects of it brought everyone running. John's face was a mix of concern and wariness, and his eyes slipped almost guiltily over to Dejab, standing there in all his glory. So to speak. Looking at the man, still fully erect, and the striking blonde that followed him out of the tent, made Rodney whimper even more than the projectile vomiting had, but John was already stammering out an apology, though not doing a particularly good job of it.

Even in the midst of his misery, Rodney was pretty sure that had something to do with wanting to get away from Sin Village, here, and he could only sympathize. It had already been an hour since the damn orgy had started, and there was Dejab, smiling his understanding at John -- which gave Rodney a momentary distraction to his stomach, because he always hated it when people smiled at John like that. It never led to good places -- his dick still twitching happily like he was mainlining some native Viagra or something. And, really, Rodney wouldn't have wanted that monster inside him under the best of circumstances -- though he had to admit the blonde looked pretty happy -- but especially not if he was going to keep it up for hours at a time. Forget walking funny, he'd be lucky to be able to walk again at all.

The light cuff to his head brought his attention back to the man who's cock he really would like in him -- like right now, on that table, the food smearing everywhere as they rutted like rabbits -- but John was wearing his big smile, the one that meant he wasn't amused at all, and Rodney could feel his hopes for that scenario slipping further away by the minute.

::::::::::

Carter was doing her best to keep her face straight, but Rodney could see she was amused by what had happened, even Rodney's limited accounting of it. Frankly, after the whole debacle, with Dejab and his blonde, and the food, and the sex just everywhere, and John not looking at him at all, and his balls fucking about to turn blue, for heaven's sake, Rodney was in no mood for her smirk. He just wanted to get the debrief from hell over with, and fuck John through his mattress. Or have John fuck him through his. Just something to do with his cock and John's cock, and no one else around at all.

Carter's smirk broke free from her, and Rodney had a sneaking suspicion she knew what had really happened. He wondered how many of SG-1's field reports had maybe been fudged a little, and he almost felt a moment of shared empathy with her, but then she turned to Teyla and said, "What happened then?" and Rodney sighed, wishing he had a Powerbar to tide him over.

::::::::::

The noises that filled the air made Teyla's skin itch, but she ignored it. It took a great deal of will on her part, but she concentrated on her sewing, focusing on the stitching so that she could ignore the _ceremony_ going on around her.

John had tried to talk to her, asking her what she was sewing, but she had ignored him. He never meant anything by it, and it usually did not bother her at all, but all his lazy, drawling banter, the flirting that he could not seem to help, any more than breathing, was just not something she could deal with at the moment.

She had almost told him she was sewing a wimple, remembering the silly nun story Rodney had got her to watch, and feeling, acutely at the moment, how long it had been since she and her lover had last met. She was a healthy young woman, and her libido was healthy as well, and though she could ignore it, and often had, lately her need had been running higher than usual. Teyla was a little excited -- and a little afraid -- about what that increase in hormones might mean, but it was inconvenient, to say the least, under the circumstances.

She had never been closer to just saying be done with it, and initiating one of the team orgies so many people thought they were having anyway. With the sounds of copulating going on around her, she could not seem to keep her mind from wandering, drifting off to thoughts of what Ronon's hair would feel like between her thighs. She imagined the dreds would tickle, writhing like snakes against her flesh as his tongue… no, her will was stronger than this. She would not let herself be swayed by an outside influence again.

Just concentrate on the sewing, she told herself. A useful task, something to do that did not involve stupid alien sex rites, or thinking about how different John's hair would be, because it was shorter, but seemed to be sentient as well, apparently randomly rearranging itself from time to time. She could almost imagine that his hair was another sense organ, and that it would slide along her skin, touching, probing, like John's hands, his tongue, his… no, that was wrong. Just because he was her teammate, more dear to her than many of the people she had known all her life, was no reason for her to be using him -- even a fantasy version -- this way.

Sewing, she reminded herself. Pushing the needle in and out carefully, making sure it followed the path she intended, the stitches smooth and clean. In and out of the cloth, in and out. In and out, and while Rodney did not really have hair to fantasize about, he was incredibly facile with his tongue when talking, and Teyla could only imagine -- could not help but imagine -- it would be just as talented at other uses. He seemed tireless when he talked, a flood of words that poured out from that tongue. It had to be strong and sure to hold up under all that exercise, and she could almost feel the heat and slickness of it as he licked a trail up and up, closer, teasing, then…

The needle continued on the course she had set it, in and out, but, unfortunately, it went in and out of her finger this time, and Teyla, nowhere near as sedate as she would like to be, as she usually was, found herself falling back on the invective that she had learned from her teammates. "God damn it! Will you people just be quiet for a moment?"

As soon as the outburst was over, Teyla felt ashamed of herself. John and Rodney had already caused disturbances, but they were almost fated to it, while she was usually the one who smoothed things over. Dejab came out of his tent, yet once again, though Teyla noticed that he had managed to find another partner in the meantime, someone who looked a little similar to John -- which Teyla knew would only set Rodney off more, sure that everyone in the galaxy was looking to sleep with John… though Teyla had to admit that he had been proved right more often than she would have thought likely.

Teyla went to meet him, trying to get her frayed nerves under control so that she could amend her momentary lapse, but Dejab's cock seemed to be pointing right at her, still slick from sex, and Teyla felt herself swallow hard at the thought of what it would feel like in her. She knew she had to make things right between them, but she had to admit that she would not have been as upset as she would normally be if it meant leaving this cursed planet right now, and getting back to the truly amazing showers the Ancestors had invented.

::::::::::

"You cursed?"

Teyla nodded calmly, fully in control again. This was more to do with the fact that there was no longer any sex going on around her, and that Carter was fully dressed, thank the Ancestors, than due to any merit of her own, but she was not going to think about that at the moment. Not until she had had her shower, damn it.

"You? You, Teyla, actually cursed?"

Feeling the sarcastic bent that Rodney had inadvertently trained in her coming to the fore, Teyla held her tongue, only nodding again in agreement. The less said, the sooner her shower.

"And that's why you got thrown off the planet?"

At that Teyla sighed, and looked at Ronon. "No, it was not because I cursed."

::::::::::

Ronon listened to all the sex going on around him and smiled. He almost wished he could find someone to take up on the offer of sharing, but it was too much of a risk. There were diseases, and he didn't want to have to set his gun aside even for a moment.

He laughed at the thought, knowing the Earth people sometimes used the word gun as substitute for cock. He had his hand on both his guns at the moment, enjoying the sense of safety and the feeling of pleasure they brought. Someone nearby shouted as they came, and it made Ronon's hand squeeze down on his own cock, imagining what it would be like if it were buried deep in Teyla. Or maybe John. Oh, hell, even Rodney, if he could just keep him from talking too much while he was fucking him.

But he figured John or Rodney would kill him if he fucked the other one, and he knew Teyla was already involved with someone. Weir was gone, along with her strange mix of horrified fascination with him, and the obvious desire underneath it. He missed her, but there were always people who looked at him like that, so his sorrow for her was only emotional.

And even when he couldn't have someone to share this with, there was always his own hand. It had been his only companion for years, the only one he could trust. And even now he often favored it, rarely wanting to go through the motions required to get most people to sleep with him. He had his team, his duty, and himself, which was two things more than he'd ever expected to have again, and it was more than enough.

Ronon laughed again as he felt his climax approach, wishing they got these kind of missions more often.

He was still enjoying the post-orgasm glow when he heard someone approaching. He didn't rush to cover up, knowing that there were very few people around them that weren't far more undressed than he was, so he wasn't quite sure what to make of the startled face of the villager. It wasn't the kind of surprise that came with stumbling upon someone unintentionally, nor even of seeing more of them than you'd expected. It was the kind of surprise you had when you'd seen something very disturbing, and Ronon gave up the gun for pleasure to take firm hold of the gun for safety.

Ronon sighed when the guy took off running, calling loudly for Dejab. This couldn't be a good thing. He followed along behind, wondering why he'd been blessed with the luck of that Murphy guy that Lorne had told him about.

::::::::::

After Teyla looked at him, everyone's eyes had turned his way, but Ronon just shrugged. "Apparently masturbating is some big crime on their world. Some weird garbage about 'not spilling your seed upon the soil' or something like that. I wasn't really listening."

He didn't bother to apologize. He knew the others hadn't really mentioned what the Rite of First Trade had entailed, which might have gotten Ronon a little more understanding from Carter, but he didn't care enough to rat them out. He knew that John and Rodney were about a step away from fucking on the conference table, and Teyla was fidgeting, which meant she was about a step away from joining them, and while Ronon was feeling pretty good himself, he wasn't exactly against getting back to his room sooner rather than later.

Carter just looked at them all, shaking her head, disbelief clearly on her face before she just waved a weary hand to dismiss them. It reminded Ronon strongly of Weir for a moment, her habitual look after their less violent missions. He hesitated, wondering how Carter would look at him if they were alone, but then he turned and left. Maybe later.

They all stood outside her office for a second, just watching each other, before Teyla said, "I feel… well, I feel I could really use a shower right now," and took off at a pace that was more like a run than her normally measured stride.

The men watched her go for a second, all of them, even those whose tendencies weren't completely heterosexual, drawn to those swaying hips. But then John said, "Yes. Well. Um, McKay and I have a meeting planned, so we have to go as well."

Rodney looked at him like he was crazy. "What the hell are you talking about? There was no meeting planned, and if you think I'm going to sit through another debriefing before-" but he was cut off by John grabbing him by the arm and pulling him along, throwing back a, "We'll see you later," over his shoulder.

Ronon heard Rodney's voice, still loud even as they got further away, "Oh, that's what you meant by meeting. Well how was I supposed to know…"

He watched them leave, feeling, again, a little wistful, but he let it go as well. He'd had a good day. Any mission where no one was injured, where he'd managed to masturbate, and he was home in time for dinner was good by him. He debated whether to have dinner first, or go back to his room to continue what he'd been doing before. He decided on sex first, food later, and reached in his pack for a Powerbar to hold him over, only to come up empty. His eyes narrowed when he figured out who the culprit was, and he changed his plans. Dinner and sex, yes, but later. First came revenge.

::::::::::

John's room was the smallest, his bed almost too tiny to hold them both, but it was the closest, and the one they headed to instinctively.

Rodney kissed him the second the door was closed, and John almost pulled back, remembering the multi-color display that had been projected out of it earlier, but Keller must have given him something minty to soothe his stomach, and John was past hard and into painful, and he just didn't care.

He barely let Rodney get undressed before he was rolling the condom down his dick, and pushing him down on the bed. Pushing himself down onto it, and he almost cried out at the burn, but he'd needed this too damn long, and the pain barely registered past that need. Rodney whimpered, though, his hands reflexively digging into John's hips as he sank further down.

They sometimes fucked a little fast and hard, but never like this, and John almost regretted not taking it slow. But then Rodney moaned back in his throat, his hips rocking up to get as far in John as he could, moaning again when John pushed back against him, and there wasn't any time for slow, any time for anything but here and now, and, God, right there. It was over too soon, and John would be feeling it for days, but neither of them had enough strength to care.

Neither of them had enough strength to move, either, at least not in time, when the door opened, and a water balloon crashed right down on the bed between them. The door shut too fast to see who it had been, but very few people had the code to open John's door without his permission, and John was pretty sure that Rodney hadn't started his eating binge with the celebration feast. "You just had to steal his Powerbars, didn't you?"

Rodney, still spluttering from the attack, said, "What? Who? Ronon!"

But John just laughed, kissing Rodney much more slowly, licking away the water that was beaded on his face, his chest, his neck, liking the way it rumbled under his tongue as Rodney continued to complain even while his legs instinctively spread for John as he worked his way down. It had been a long day, but things had worked out all right in the end. John smirked at the way Rodney's diatribe faltered as John's tongue worked over his nipples, but all he said was, "You're sleeping in the wet spot."

/iffiness

**Author's Note:**

> the surprise pairings are: John/cleaning his gun, Rodney/eating, Teyla/sewing, Ronon/holding his gun


End file.
